CHAPTER FOUR
Zayne leaned against the desk, dusty from disuse, his muscled arms folded across his chest. He had a slight smile on his face—a fond one. And Danika had one hand on his shoulder, her face so bright and happy I wanted to throw up on the both of them. They were the same height, both around the same age. Admittedly, they’d make a beautiful couple and have tons of beautiful babies that would shift and wouldn’t have any tainted blood in them.
I hated her.
Zayne looked up, stiffening as his eyes locked with mine.
“Layla? Is that you?” Danika pulled away from Zayne, smiling as her hand trailed down his chest. A soft, rosy flush covered her high cheekbones. “Your hair has gotten so long.”
My hair hadn’t grown that much since the last time I’d seen her, which was three months ago. “Hey.” I sounded like I’d swallowed a bed of nails.
She came across the library, stopping short of embracing me because we so weren’t on hugging terms. “How have you been? How’s school?”
The fact that Danika actually liked me made it all the more intolerable. “It’s great.”
Zayne pushed off the desk. “Did you need something, Layla-bug?”
I felt like the biggest kind of idiot. “I...just wanted to say hi.” I turned to Danika, my face burning. “Hi.”
Her smile faltered a bit as she glanced at Zayne. “We were just talking about you, actually. Zayne was telling me you were thinking of applying to Columbia?”
I thought about the half-completed college application. “It was a stupid idea.”
Zayne frowned. “I thought you said you were going to do it.”
I shrugged. “What’s the point? I already have a job.”
“Layla, there’s still a point. You don’t have—”
“It’s nothing we need to talk about. Sorry for interrupting.” I cut Zayne off. “I’ll see you guys later.”
I hurried away before I made an even bigger fool out of myself, blinking back hot, humiliating tears. My skin was starting to crawl by the time I made it to the fridge. I shouldn’t have gone looking for them, because I’d known what I’d find. But apparently I was into torturing myself.
Pulling out the carton of OJ, I also grabbed the roll of sugar-cookie dough. The first gulp of juice was the best. I loved the acidic burn. Sugar helped when the cravings to take a soul hit hard. It was a mortifying need, reminding me of drug addicts.
“Layla.”
Closing my eyes, I set the carton on the counter. “Zayne?”
“She’s only going to be here a couple of weeks. You could at least try to be nice to her.”
I twisted around, focusing on his shoulder. “I was being nice to her.”
He laughed. “You sounded like you wanted to bite her head off.”
Or take her soul. “Whatever.” I grabbed a chunk of dough and popped it in my mouth. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
Zayne reached over, taking the dough from my hands. “She went to help Jasmine with the twins.”
“Oh.” I turned away, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard, filling it to the top.
“Layla-bug.” His breath stirred my hair. “Please don’t act like this.”
I sucked in air, wanting to lean back into him, but knowing I never could. “I’m not acting like anything. You should go hang out with Danika.”
Sighing, he placed a hand on my shoulder, turning me back around. His eyes dropped to the glass I held. “Rough day at school, huh?”
I backed up, hitting the counter. The image of Roth cornering me in the bathroom immediately came to mind. “N-no different than any other day.”
Zayne stepped forward, dropping the roll of dough on the counter. “Anything interesting happen?”
Did he know? No, there was no way. He always asked about school. “Um...some girl called me a gargoyle whore.”
“What?”
I shrugged. “It happens. Not a big deal.”
His gaze sharpened. “Who said that to you?”
“It doesn’t matter....” I stopped as he took my glass and watched the muscles of his throat work. He drained half the glass before he handed it back to me. “It’s just something stupid they say.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t matter as long as you don’t let it bother you.”
I shivered, hopelessly drawn into his pale eyes. “I know.”
“Cold?” he murmured. “Somebody turned the air on while we slept.”
“It’s September. It’s not hot enough to run the air.”
Zayne chuckled as he brushed my hair back over my shoulder. “Layla, our body temperatures run differently than yours. Seventy degrees is steamy to us.”
“Mmm. That’s why I like you. You’re warm.”
He took my glass again, but this time he placed it on the counter. Then he grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him. “That’s why you like me? Because I’m warm?”
“I guess so.”
“I thought for sure there were other reasons,” he teased.
My earlier irritation faded. I found myself smiling at him. Zayne always had that effect on me. “Well, you do help me with my homework.”
His brows shot up. “Is that all?”
“Hmm.” I pretended to think about it. “You’re pretty to look at. Does that make you feel better?”
Zayne gaped. “I’m pretty to look at?”
I giggled. “Yeah. Stacey also said you’re the awesome sauce with an extra side of sauce.”
“Really?” He pulled me into his side and draped his arm over my shoulder. It was like being in a headlock, except my body tingled all over. “Do you think I’m the awesome sauce?”
“Sure,” I gasped.
“How about with extra sauce?”
My cheeks flushed. So did other parts of my body. “I...guess so.”
“You guess so?” He leaned back, putting maybe two inches between us. “I think you do.”
To my relief, my face didn’t feel like it was on fire.
He laughed softly, pulling my hand off my face. “You’re done tagging already?”
I blinked slowly. What was he talking about?
The door to the kitchen opened behind us. Zayne dropped my hand as he looked over his shoulder, but his arm remained. He grinned. “Hey, old man.”
I twisted around. Abbot stood in the doorway, eyeing his son blandly. He always reminded me of a lion. His hair was lighter than Zayne’s, but just as long. I imagined he shared a lot of the same features as his son, but half his face was always covered by a thick beard.
If I looked up the definition of intimidating, it would show a picture of Abbot. As the clan leader, he had to be fierce, stern and, at times, deadly. He represented the clan, was the one who met with human officials, and if any of the Wardens messed up, it was Abbot who took the fall. A lot of weight rested on his shoulders, but his back never bowed under the pressure.
Abbot’s gaze slid to me. His normally warm eyes were like chips of pale blue ice. “Layla, the school called here this afternoon.”
I pursed my lips. “Uh...”
“I was able to get in touch with a Mrs. Cleo before she left for the evening.” He folded thick arms across his chest. “She claimed that you ran out of class during an exam. Care to explain why?”
My brain emptied.
Zayne’s head jerked up, and without looking, I knew he was frowning. “Why did you run out of class?” he asked.
“I...wasn’t feeling well.” I gripped the edge of the island. “I didn’t eat this morning and I got sick.”
“Are you feeling okay now?” he pressed.
I glanced at him. Concern touched his expression. “Yeah, I’m all better.”
He glanced over at my forgotten glass of orange juice. A strange look flickered over his face. Without saying a word, he dropped his arm and headed around the island.
“I told this Mrs. Cleo that I was sure you had a good reason for leaving class,” Abbot continued. “She agreed such beha
vior was out of character and has decided to let you make up your exam after school on Friday.”
Typically I would have whined about having to spend extra time in school, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. “I’m really sorry.”
Abbot’s eyes softened. “Next time make sure you let the teacher know you’re sick. And call Morris so that you can come home and rest.”
Now I really felt bad. I shifted my weight back and forth. “Okay.”
Zayne returned to my side, OJ in hand. There was a drawn, brooding pull to his features. He handed me the glass, watching until I finished it off. I felt even worse.
Abbot rested his arms against the counter. “Have you been spending time with Danika, Zayne?”
“Hmm?” Zayne’s eyes were still on me.
“You know,” I said, setting the glass down, “the girl who was almost standing on top of you in the library.”
Zayne’s full lips thinned.
Abbot chuckled. “Good to see you two getting along. You know she’s of mating age, Zayne, and it’s time you think about settling down.”
I tried to keep my expression blank as I stared at the empty glass. Zayne settling down? I wanted to hurl.
Zayne groaned. “Father, I just turned twenty-one. Give it a rest.”
Abbot arched a brow. “I mated with your mother when I was your age. It’s hardly out of the question.”
I made a face. “Can’t we say ‘marry’? Saying ‘mate’ out loud just sounds gross.”
“This isn’t your world, Layla. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
Ouch. I flinched back.
Zayne exhaled roughly. “Father, this is her world. She’s a Warden, too.”
Abbot moved from the counter, brushing his hair back. “If she did understand, the use of the word mating would not disturb her. The bonds of marriage are breakable. Mating is for life. Something you—” he looked at Zayne pointedly “—need to start taking seriously. Our clan is dwindling.”
Zayne tipped his head back and sighed. “What are you suggesting? That I should go out there right now and devote my life to Danika? Does she have a say in this?”
“I doubt Danika would be displeased.” Abbot smiled knowingly. “And yes, I’m suggesting you mate very soon. You aren’t getting any younger, and neither am I. You may not love her now, but you’ll grow to.”
“What?” Zayne laughed.
“I felt...a fondness for your mother when I first mated with her.” He rubbed his beard-covered chin thoughtfully. “I did grow to love her. If only we’d had more time together...”
Zayne seemed unaffected by the whole exchange, but I felt close to tears. I murmured something about homework before leaving the kitchen. I didn’t need to wait around to see how the conversation wrapped up. Whatever Zayne thought or wanted didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered for Abbot or Zayne’s mother.
And it sure as Hell didn’t matter what I wanted.
* * *
The application to Columbia University stared at me from the floor. Scattered beside it were more college applications. Money wasn’t an issue. Neither were my grades. Since I couldn’t serve the clan by producing more Wardens, my future was my own. Those applications should’ve filled me with excitement and joy. But the idea of moving away, of becoming someone new and different, was as frightening as it was enthralling.
And now, when I finally had the chance to leave, I didn’t want to.
It didn’t make any sense. I tucked my hair back and stood. My schoolwork lay on the bed forgotten. If I was honest with myself for two seconds, I’d admit I knew why I didn’t want to leave. It was Zayne, and that was stupid. Abbot had been right earlier. It didn’t matter how much Warden blood I shared, this wasn’t my world. I was kind of like a guest who never left.
I looked around my room. It had everything a girl could want. My own desktop computer and laptop, TV and stereo system, more clothes than I’d ever wear and enough books to lose myself in.
But it was all just stuff...empty.
Unable to stay in my bedroom, I left with no real plan in mind. I just needed to get out of the room—out of the house. Downstairs, I could hear Jasmine and Danika in the kitchen making dinner. The scent of roasted potatoes and the sound of laughter filled the air. Was Zayne with them, cooking alongside Danika?
How sweet.
I passed Morris on the front porch. He glanced up from his newspaper with a questioning look, but that was all. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans and inhaled the scent of decayed leaves and the faint trace of the city’s smog.
I cut across the manicured yard, past the stone wall that separated Abbot’s property from the woods surrounding the compound. Zayne and I had made this trip so many times as kids that a path had been carved through the grass and rocky soil. We’d escaped here together—me running from the loneliness and Zayne avoiding the rigorous trainings and all the expectations.
When we were younger, the fifteen-minute hike felt like we’d managed to disappear into a different world full of thick cherry trees and maples. It had been our place. Back then, I couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t include him.
I stopped under the tree house Abbot had built for Zayne long before I came along. There wasn’t anything special about it. Kind of like a hut in the trees, but it had this cool eight-by-eight observation deck. Climbing a tree was a Hell of a lot easier when I was a little kid. It took several tries to get into the main part. From there, I crawled through a door roughed into the treated wood. I inched across the platform gingerly, hoping it didn’t cave in.
Death by tree house didn’t sound like an exciting way to go.
Lying down, I wondered why I’d come here. Was it some twisted way of wanting to be close to Zayne, or did I just want to be a kid again? To go back to a time when I didn’t know that seeing colors shimmering around people meant that I wasn’t like other Wardens...before I learned that I had tainted blood. Things were easier then. I didn’t think about Zayne the way I did now or spend my evenings touching random strangers. I also didn’t have an Upper Level demon in my bio class.
A cool breeze picked up a few strands of my hair, tossing them across my face. I shivered and hunkered down in my sweater. For some reason, I remembered what Roth had said about Abbot using me for my ability.
It’s not true.
I pulled the necklace out from underneath my sweater. The chain was old and thick. It had a series of ropy loops I knew by heart. In the waning light, I couldn’t make out the etchings on the silver ring. Endless knots had been carved into the metal band by someone who obviously had too much time on their hands. I turned the ring over. I’d never seen anything like the gemstone set in the center. It was deep red, almost like a ruby, but the color was off in some areas, darker in others. Sometimes, depending on how I held the ring, it looked as if there was liquid inside the oval stone.
Supposedly the ring had belonged to my mother.
My memories prior to the night Abbot found me were nothing but a blank void. This ring was the only thing that tied me to my real family.
Family was such a strange word. I wasn’t even sure I’d had a family to start off with. Had I been with my father at some point, before the foster home? Who knew? And if Abbot did, he wasn’t telling. My life started when Abbot found me.
I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly and deeply. Now wasn’t the time for self-reflection or a pity party. I tucked the ring back under my sweater, figuring I needed to focus on what I was going to do about Roth.
I was on my own with this one. Ignore him? Sounded like a good
White Hot Kiss Page 6
